


Opportunity Knocks

by Nightwang



Series: RominWeek2021 [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Day 2: Drugged, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Romin Week 2021
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 16:21:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30058218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightwang/pseuds/Nightwang
Summary: ‘The drug took effect surprisingly quickly. One minute Richard was flush but alert, the next he was swaying slightly in his seat, eyes half lidded and unfocused.‘For the RomanRobin week prompt Drugged.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Roman Sionis
Series: RominWeek2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2211288
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34
Collections: Romin Week 2021





	Opportunity Knocks

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Eating Away](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22407148) by [withthekeyisking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/withthekeyisking/pseuds/withthekeyisking). 



> Here’s Day 2 hope you enjoy! :)

Roman was _bored_. It wasn’t exactly an unusual feeling. He’d gone out in the hopes that he would find some entertainment, but so far the bars had been woefully lacking. He put his empty glass down on the table, pushing himself to his feet, and wandering over to the bar. There was someone new sitting on one of the bar stools, a young man, hunched over his drink. Well, maybe Roman’s night was about to get interesting.

The boy glanced up at him. His messy hair fell loosely across his forehead, cheeks slightly flushed from alcohol, but his gaze was sharp, considering. Roman recognised him immediately. After all, you would have to have been living under a rock for the last decade not to know Bruce Wayne’s ward.

He was finely dressed, but slightly unkempt in an attractively tousled way, his sleeves rolled up his forearms and his shirt unbuttoned enough to reveal the sharp lines of his collarbones. He was toying with a glass of amber liquid, rubbing a finger absentmindedly across the rim.

“Are you even old enough to drink, sweetheart?” Roman said, smiling to take the edge off. The boy, Richard, brought the glass to his lips and tipped it back, raising his eyebrows as if daring Roman to say something.

“Does it matter?”

No, he guessed when you had more money than sense not many people would say no to you. And his pretty face certainly couldn’t hurt.

“Let me buy you a drink,” Roman said instead, already waving the bartender over. Richard’s mouth pinched a little, his long eyelashes sweeping down to brush his cheeks.

“I’d better not. Thanks though.”

“Oh?” Roman leaned in casually, close but not close enough to make him uncomfortable. “What’s the matter, worried Daddy will get upset? One drink can’t hurt.”

He knew he’d struck a nerve when Richard’s fingers tightened on his glass, his lip curling in annoyance. Roman grabbed the drinks from the bartender and, whilst Richard was suitably distracted, slipped a little surprise into the boy’s whiskey. He slid it across the bar towards him and then turned away slightly to take a sip from his own drink, as if he didn’t care what Richard did.

“He’s not my dad,” the boy said bitterly, the ice cubes in his drink clinking against each other as he picked it up. Roman had to hide his smile behind the rim of his own glass. Honestly, this was too easy.

“Of course,” he said, leaning one elbow against the bar, open. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

“It’s fine,” Richard said. “Thanks for the drink.”

“You looked like you needed one,” he held a hand out, pleased when Richard didn’t hesitate to shake it. “Roman Sionis.”

“Dick Grayson.”

A rather poor nickname, but Roman wasn’t about to comment on it. “Not Wayne?”

“No.” He didn’t elaborate, but he did take another angry swig of his drink.

The drug took effect surprisingly quickly. One minute Richard was flush but alert, the next he was swaying slightly in his seat, eyes half lidded and unfocused. He lifted his glass to his mouth and missed, spilling alcohol down his chin and his shirt. Roman extricated the glass smoothly, watching with amusement as Richard stared forlornly down at the wet patch.

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you home, hmm?”

“Don’t wanna go home,” Richard slurred, but he let Roman guide him gently off the barstool, stumbling into his side with a hiccup. Roman wrapped an arm around his waist, and smiled politely at the bartender on their way out. For a moment, the cold rush of the night air seemed to sober the boy up, and he tried to push away with a frown.

“Relax,” Roman soothed, a hand on the back of his neck. Gentle, but firm. Confident. “I’m only trying to help.”

“I don’t- don’t need any help,” he managed, but he didn’t pull away again,

His car was waiting for him at the curb. Neither of the body guards Roman had brought with him batted an eye at the sight of the clearly intoxicated young man hanging off his shoulder. Richard seemed to have lost most of the control of his legs, and so Roman had to bundle him into the back seat with far less grace than he wanted. Still, as they set off, Roman couldn’t help the warm, pleased feeling in his chest. Or the slow curl of arousal that was blooming to life in his gut.

Richard was sprawled awkwardly across the seats, his head propped up against the door. Roman slid closer, pushing his legs down onto the floor so he could reach the boy’s shirt, slipping proprietary fingers underneath the open collar to stroke across the soft skin beneath. Richard twitched, frowning muzzily up at him, lips parting around hitching breaths. His arms came up to push weakly against Roman’s shoulders, his head twisting to the side to rub his forehead against the rough material of the car door.

Roman gripped both his wrists in one hand, holding them easily, and leaned further over him, pressing his arms up against the window, which worked both to pin him down, and also stretch his torso appealingly. One handed he popped the buttons of his shirt open, letting the material fall to frame the taut muscles of his chest and stomach. Roman hummed appreciatively, trailing his fingers across the tan skin and enjoying the way it twitched beneath his touch. Richard was a bit of an acrobat, if Roman remembered correctly, and his body certainly matched. This was going to be fun.

Richard twisted awkwardly beneath him, attempting to dislodge Roman, but he was uncoordinated and weak, and Roman pinned him down easily, splaying his fingers across his abdomen, just above the waistband of his trousers. The car slowed to a stop, cool air rushing in as the door was pulled open. Richard shivered, his nipples pebbling at the sudden chill. Roman let him go, climbing out of the car smoothly.

“Bring him up,” Roman said. The bodyguard reached into the car, grabbing onto Richard and dragging him across the seats. He made a disgruntled whining noise as he was hoisted up over the man’s shoulder, dangling limply.

By the time they made it up to Roman’s floors, impatience had settled like an itch over his skin. He directed the bodyguard to drop Richard onto the bed, and then dismissed him, shutting the door with a satisfying click. Richard looked fucked out already, shirt open to reveal flushed skin and hard nipples, hair disheveled, pupils blown wide from the drugs as he stared hazily at Roman.

Roman dropped a hand to palm over himself lazily, arousal only growing at the confusion and fear painted across the boy’s face. He stripped off his jacket and tie and then climbed up onto the bed, boxing Richard in. He blinked up at him, before turning his face to the side and rubbing his cheek against the sheets. Roman gripped his chin and turned him back, leaning down to press their lips together. Richard made a disgruntled noise, but his mouth was slack and soft, and Roman licked inside with ease.

He pulled back, trailing his mouth down to suck a bruise into the delicate skin of his throat, his pulse thudding beneath his lips. Richard twitched and gasped under him as he sucked a necklace of bruises into his skin. Roman reached down to unbutton Richard’s trousers, scooting down his body to tug them, and his underwear, off of his legs. Richard shivered when he was exposed, his hands coming down as if to cover himself, but Roman caught his wrists before he could, pressing his hands down at his sides. The boy was completely soft, small tremors running through his thighs as Roman parted them.

“Wha-” Richard slurred. “Stop.”

Roman stuck his fingers into Richard’s mouth. He tried to twist his face away, whining around the intrusion, drool sliding from the corner of his lips. When his fingers were sufficiently wet, Roman pulled them out, pressing them up against the boy’s entrance. Richard made a sharp noise as Roman shoved two fingers into him, his hands flying up as if to push him away.

“Relax, sweetheart,” Roman purred, scissoring his fingers roughly, impatient. The drugs made his muscles lax, his body accepting Roman’s fingers easily, but Richard still made little soft, wounded noises, squirming against the sheets. Roman was so hard it hurt, his cock straining against his zipper. He reached down to open his trousers, groaning in relief as he pulled himself out, giving himself a quick stroke. He couldn’t wait any longer.

He shuffled closer, pushing Richard’s thighs apart even further so that he could press himself up against him. Richard frowned prettily, his lips parting as Roman pushed his way in. It was soft, and hot, the boy clenching around him, and Roman groaned, leaning over him to press his teeth into the soft skin of his throat.

“Wha-” Richard squirmed, voice thick with pain. Roman thrust in sharply, until his hips were pressed against Richard’s ass, hands falling to grip onto the underside of his thighs, spreading him open.

“That’s it baby, you take my cock so well,” Roman purred, grinding deep into him. Richard yelped, his head tipping back to show the long expanse of his neck. Roman took the opportunity to mouth at his exposed Adam's apple, enjoying the way it bobbed beneath his lips as Richard swallowed thickly.

Roman pulled out and thrust back in, jolting Richard’s body across the sheets. Pleasure sparked up his spine, pooling like molten gold in his pelvis. It was good, rutting into the pliant body beneath him, marking up the boy’s tan skin, spreading him open and _taking_.

Tears glistened on Richard’s flush cheeks, his lashes clumping together. He looked gorgeous like this, vulnerable. Roman couldn’t help but thrust in harder, rougher, taking his pleasure. His hips had a mind of their own, starting up a frantic pace. The headboard of his bed hit the wall with every thrust, Richard’s body jerking limply.

Pleasure built steadily in Roman’s gut. He took one hand off of the boy’s thigh to press it over his throat, curling his fingers until Richard’s breath hitched, wheezing desperately. His eyes flew open wide, hands coming up to scratch against Roman’s chest with renewed strength. Roman squeezed harder, until his breath was cut off completely. Richard’s eyes bulged, his mouth hanging open.

Roman’s orgasm was building steadily, sweat beading on the nape of his neck. He thrust hard once, grinding in as deep as he could go, and came with a low moan. His fingers spasmed over Richard’s neck, before he released him, slumping down over him.

Richard’s desperate pants tickled over Roman’s cheek, his body warm beneath him. Roman enjoyed the feeling for a moment, before pulling back, holding himself up over him. Richard blinked, his face red, mouth wet.

“Good boy,” Roman purred, sitting back on his heels. Richard shuddered, although Roman wasn’t sure if it was because he understood what he was saying, or if it was the loss of Roman’s body heat. Richard squeezed his eyes shut, turning his face away with a soft sob.

Roman rolled his eyes. They always cried. He tucked himself away, leaning over to grab his phone from the bedside table. He snapped a couple of photos, making sure he caught the tears on his cheeks, the wet streak of semen between his legs. Richard looked good like this, trembling and debauched. He photographed well. Roman would love to show them off, maybe send them to Wayne. But no, he’d better not. These would just be for _him_.

He stepped off the bed, stretching his back out. He could do with a drink. He stepped out into the living room, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He smoothed a hand over his trousers, brushing out the wrinkles, then headed to the front door, pushing it open to wave one of his bodyguards inside.

“Get him dressed and dump him off somewhere. I don’t care where.”

The man nodded, slipping quietly into the bedroom. Roman settled into an armchair, tipping his head back with a sigh. Tonight had been fun. Roman didn’t usually sample the same dish twice, but he had to admit that he wouldn’t mind spending a night with Richard again. He wasn’t likely to be accepting anymore drinks from strangers any time soon, but there were other ways of getting a man into bed. Richard probably wouldn’t want those pictures getting out to the general public. He had an image to maintain after all.

The bodyguard appeared again, Richard fully dressed and slung over his shoulder. His head was hanging limply, shirt untucked, moaning softly as he was jostled about. Roman watched the man disappear out the door, taking another sip of his drink.

He was rather pleased with himself, satisfaction curling low in his gut. It certainly added to the experience, knowing that he was getting one over on Bruce Wayne, a business rival, and the boy had been _delightful_ , all soft heat and a pretty face.

And, well, Wayne had just taken in another boy, if Roman wasn’t mistaken. If he was lucky, he might just complete the set.


End file.
